undercover
by AGENT Kuma-chan
Summary: "Long story short, Bucky and I are going to a gay bar, disguised as a couple." Even as the words left his mouth, Steve knew it was a mistake to tell them to Sam and Natasha of all people.


**Title: **'undercover'

**Prompt:** i am a sucker for fake relationships or the sam and Natasha and steve friendship dynamic

**A/N:** this was a lot of fun to write. XD I just really adore the trio of Sam, Steve, and Natasha. And Sam's and Bucky's hatemace. XD

**Summary:** _"Long story short, Bucky and I are going to a gay bar, disguised as a couple." Even as the words left his mouth, Steve knew it was a mistake to tell them to Sam and Natasha of all people._

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…

"Long story short, Bucky and I are going to a gay bar, disguised as a couple." Even as the words left his mouth, Steve knew they were a mistake. A big mistake. Even worse, he was saying this to Natasha and Sam. Of all the people he chose to confide to, he shouldn't have picked these two. He was out of his mind. Backpedalling, he quickly added, "It's a fake relationship." He paused. "To gather intel."

The expressions on their faces told him they weren't buying any of it. If there was one good thing, it was that they were all in Steve's room, with the door closed. He wasn't sure he could handle the embarrassment if Clint or Thor had walked by at that moment. And if Tony caught wind of it—he'd never hear the end of it. _Never_.

Sam sat backwards on a chair he'd stolen from the kitchen. Crossing his arms on the chair's back, he leaned forward and rested his chin on his hands. "Undercover," he snorted scornfully, eyebrow raised.

Sitting cross-legged on Steve's bed, Natasha's expression wasn't any better. Actually, it worse because Steve was pretty sure he'd seen her direct this exact expression at Tony whenever he did something particularly stupid. "A _fake_ relationship," she stressed dryly.

"Guys, come on." A little flustered, Steve rubbed his neck. "It's not like that; it's an important mission."

"Well, at least he didn't deny the gay part," Sam quipped, and Natasha leaned over to high five him.

Steve gave them a stony glare. He should never have introduced them to each other. It was a big mistake and he should have seen this coming. "Hahah, very funny. Got it out of your system?" When they didn't reply, he turned around and opened his closet. Hanger after hanger held ratty t-shirts, baggy sweatpants, and dozens of military outfits. It was a monolith of dark colours. "I doubt any of these will work."

"I don't know, if you wear something tight enough, I don't think anyone'll care what it is," Sam suggested, smirking.

"Especially not Bucky." Natasha licked her lips slowly.

"Yes—no, that's not what I'm trying to do. It's not like that at all between us, we're just friends—" Taking a deep breath, he held it for a moment before slowly releasing it through his mouth. It wouldn't do to get caught up in their rhythm. Especially since their Cheshire grins grew even wider at his rambling. "I haven't been to a bar since the 1940s. What do I wear?"

"Neither has Bucky," Sam pointed out, his expression turning slightly malicious. "Maybe he can bring back disco."

"I think 90s fashion would be a bit more embarrassing," Natasha suggested. She tapped her chin thoughtfully, a small smile on her face. "It'd be cute. Two fossils on a date."

Yeah, it had definitely been a mistake to let them become friends. Steve crossed his arms. Sternly, he admonished them, "Guys. Seriously."

"Alright, alright, I'll be serious." Rolling his eyes, Sam got up and strolled over to the closet. Rifling through the hanging shirts, he gave Steve a look. "You have unlimited money and this is what you buy?"

"_It's not his money_," Natasha cited an old argument, shaking her head. She slipped off the bed. "Don't worry, I made sure to buy a few good things and hide them in there."

"I knew you—where are you going?" Steve asked, eyebrow raised, as Natasha headed to the door. "You're leaving?"

"Well, someone has to help Bucky," she pointed out.

Sam pulled out a shirt. "And that's definitely not me."

-x-

His jaw was dropping. Steve was keenly aware of his mouth falling open, of the utter lack of sound from his mouth as his mind raced for the right compliment for Bucky. Just as he was fully conscious of Natasha's and Sam's smirks behind him. He could already hear their laughter and maybe he shouldn't come back after this. Their teasing would be endless.

"What's wrong?" Bucky asked, perceptive as usual.

_You,_ Steve almost blurted out. There were many times he'd found Bucky attractive, but this was the first time he couldn't tear his eyes away. Dressed entirely in black and donning a leather jacket, Bucky looked like a biker. His hair was tied up in a messy bun and he was hitting every single one of Steve's weak points. Like he was designed to. Maybe he was—it wouldn't surprise Steve at all to find that Natasha already knew what he liked. Catching himself, Steve rubbed his neck. "Nothing."

"You sure?" Inspecting a blade in the kitchen light, Bucky slide it into a thigh pouch. A motion that felt a hundred times hotter considering how tight those pants—

Steve resisted the urge to tug at his collar. He wasn't feeling hot, no siree Bob.

The stifled laughter behind him grew more pronounced. Maybe he could go back and time and stop those two from meeting.

"Yeah, I'm sure." His voice sounded a pitch higher but fortunately it satisfied Bucky. Steve took a deep breath, calming down. This was to gather intel. There was nothing more to it.

"I'm just a little disappointed," Sam muttered, loud enough for Steve to hear. "You could have gone full 80s or 90s on him. Or at least cut his hair."

"Oh, I couldn't to that," Natasha drawled. "Steve likes it long."

"I don't know, I think he'd like anything on Bucky." Sam paused. "Or better yet, _nothing_ on him."

"Anyways, the mission," Steve said loudly before Bucky could hear anything. His neck was on fire. "We should get going, our mole will be there soon."

"Right." Bucky tugged at the sleeves of his jacket. Fortunately, the arms were big and loose enough that his metal arm fit in smoothly, making him look like any other ordinary guy in the club. "It's a little stiff to move in."

"You'll get used to it." Natasha's cat-like grin was back and she cocked her head. "You should leave the apartment holding hands. You know. Since you're _pretending_ to date."

Ignoring how she stressed 'pretending', Steve shook his head. "It's fine."

"Nah, she's right." Bucky reached out, firmly enveloping Steve's hand in his. It was funny how different that felt now—his hand used to be so big, they'd dwarf Steve's entirely. Now they were closer in size. Looking over his shoulder, he asked, "Is this right?"

"Hmmm…" Natasha pretended to consider it. Holding her hands up, she pushed them closer together. "You could be a little closer. Shoulders touching."

As Bucky's shoulder bumped into his, Steve didn't know if he wanted to kill her or thank her. Both, probably. As it was, it was all he could do to keep his expression blank as Bucky interlaced their fingers.

Oh, this was going to be a long night. A very long night.


End file.
